


Rendezvous

by Myka



Series: Rendezvous [1]
Category: Romeo x Juliet
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-15
Updated: 2007-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myka/pseuds/Myka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercutio's outings lead to unexpected encounters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during episode 10.

The calm and silence bored him to death. Mercutio wasn't one to admit that he was bored. He always tried to keep himself busy, and this was usually achieved by meddling in other people's business. There was always someone with some kind of secret that could benefit him; he just had to find them. Usually after the house assembly the nobles would meet for drinks and the general wasting of time. It was the perfect place for Mercutio to meddle, because even his father had secrets he still didn't know. But today was different.

Perhaps it was that fewer people were drinking and more of them were gossiping. Perhaps it was because of Romeo's denied plea... It definitely had something to do with Romeo's denied plea. For some reason, he just couldn't get the image of his younger cousin sitting there looking completely hopeless out of his head. It was upsetting him.

The loud voice of his father brought him back to where he was, and with that Mercutio decided he had had enough of that place. He strolled out and back to his quarters where he disposed of his layers of delicate silk and picked something simpler, less flashy; something that would allow him to mingle with the crowd.

It was raining when he stepped out, but thankfully he didn't have to walk. He didn't even have to say anything to the man who rode the carriage; it wasn't the first time he had done this. He knew he was close when the ride got bumpier, and the scent on the air got murkier. Sometimes it amused him how a place like this could exist among such as Montague and his father; then, on the other hand, it didn't surprise him at all. The coach stopped in front of one of the more rundown buildings, a couple of people stood outside making mindless chatter, others stood farther away in darker corners and weren't talking at all. Mercutio frowned at the thought of people not having enough control to get themselves a room and do their business in private. Once inside he scouted the room as he ritually did, waiting for his eyes to settle on someone, anyone, male or female; tonight anyone would do. He didn't see anyone and like ritual he stepped back out, got back in the coach and waited until the driver stopped at the next bar. Three times he did this. For a moment he thought he wouldn't find anybody whom he found attractive, or that peaked his interest; but he wasn't about to give up, he was determined to have sex tonight.

Lucky for him, his determination paid off.

It was a man his eyes finally settled on. Sitting in a two person table, alone; and nursing a rather large mug of liquor. It wasn't the man's looks that first caught Mercutio's attention; though he was very attractive with his dark hair, light skin, and a strong build. It wasn't the way he looked, but the way he sat; the way he held his body that made Mercutio's own body respond with a shiver that ran down his spine and right to his crotch. He almost groaned at the image that popped in his head, but he swiftly put his thoughts back together and started walking forward.

“Are you alone?” he asked when he reached the table, with a slight grin on his mouth.

“As of now,” the man replied enigmatically, with a deep voice, and Mercutio took it as a sign to sit down. He took the opportunity to look at the man closer. He was younger than Mercutio had originally thought and more beautiful up close, stunning, even, and amongst all that beauty was something definitely dark. There was hatred there.

Mercutio tossed aside the little voice that warned him to be careful with this man, and listened to his groin instead. “You want to chat, or you want to go somewhere else?” he asked point blank. He watched the man's eyes slowly open with a spark of interest, but then he suddenly stood and stepped away. Mercutio watched the man retreat a few steps and, just before he sighed over the loss of such a chance, the man stopped and looked back.

“Coming or not?”

Mercutio grinned, and followed.

\---

The second the door closed behind them, strong hands grabbed Mercutio's face and a mouth suddenly started to devour his. Mercutio didn't hesitate to return the kiss tenfold and made his desire clear as he rubbed his body against the taller man he had picked up at the bar. The kiss was suddenly broken and Mercutio groaned at the loss of contact even though he was thankful to catch his breath.

“I don't do bottom,” the man said, clear as day in that deep voice of his.

Mercutio slowly grinned as he leaned forward and ran his tongue against those lips. “No problem.”

Those words seemed to seal the deal and with a little tug, then a push, Mercutio fell back onto the bed in the room. “Take your clothes off.” Mercutio wasn't used to taking orders, but when it came to sex he'd discovered he quite enjoyed such aggressiveness. Some part of him must be a masochist.

Mercutio started removing his clothes slowly as he watched the man put a little vial of oil on the table by the side of the bed and quickly started to remove his own clothing. Mercutio almost stopped what he was doing, enthralled by the show in front of him. A slender yet sculpted body appeared from under the layers of cloth the man was wearing, strong shoulders and arms, toned thighs and just on the left of his chest right above his heart were two scars.

“Why are you still clothed?”

Mercutio had the shame to blush to be caught staring, and he didn't blush easily. He quickly recovered, the last of his clothes finally off and swiftly thrown aside on the floor. He sprawled a little on the bed, pushing his upper body up with his elbows. He was already hard from watching and he was satisfied to see the man was hard too. “Are we going to do this? Or do you just want to watch?”

His comment was replied by a hand grabbing his shoulder roughly and pushing him down against the bed. Rough hands pressed against his chest while a flicker of tongue ran against his left nipple quickly followed by teeth. Mercutio gasped and, without thinking, wrapped his hand in that thick black hair, provoking the man to look at him with haunting green eyes.

“What is your name?” Mercutio asked out of impulse, he couldn't recall the last time he had asked the name of someone he shared his bed with and someone he would probably never see again. But those eyes made him want to do so.

“You don't need to know it,” came the cold reply.

Mercutio only snickered softly at the response and yanked gently, pulling the man's head close enough that he could kiss him. “My name is Mercutio.”

“I don't care.”

The small bit of conversation that Mercutio had tried to stir died after that. Thought as as a whole died after that. All he could do was feel. There wasn't anything sweet about this sort of encounter; it was just a way to get off. It was just sex. He knew that, the man he was with knew that, everyone that did it knew that. He wasn't kissed again, there was no need. One hand trailed quickly down his body, brushing against his erection, but neglecting it and grabbing the inner side of one of his thighs instead, pushing it up.

Mercutio glanced to the side and saw the man's other hand reach for the small vial on the bedside table. With a skillful dip of his hand, he emptied the contents into his palm. Mercutio's anticipation rose as he watched the man wrapped the oil-covered hand around his own cock, stroking it a few times and coating it with the liquid. There was some oil left on his fingers once he was done and, without warning, he pushed one of them inside Mercutio.

Mercutio couldn't help but moan a little at the intrusion; even more so when another finger was pushed into him and started thrusting. Even though it felt amazing, Mercutio was growing impatient and with a little turn of his head he met the man's gaze and without speaking a word made clear what he wanted, and that he wanted it now.

The man grinned knowingly and pulled out his fingers, then quickly grabbed Mercutio's thighs and spread his legs farther apart. He settled himself between them, positioning the tip of his cock against the puckered opening. He didn't wait, just pushed; his slick cock slowly spreading that tiny hole and going inside. Mercutio threw his head back drowning himself in the feeling of being penetrated. It wasn't his first time being on the receiving end of things, but he barely remembered his first experience. That time he had been lying on his knees, his face against the mattress as he was being taken. It had been rather quick and more painful than pleasurable.

This was totally different. Mercutio couldn't quite tell why. Maybe it was because this time he was lying on his back and could see the man's beautiful face; maybe it was because said man hadn't started thrusting wildly once inside him; maybe it was the man himself.

After what felt like an eternity the pain subsided and only the feeling of being filled remain. Mercutio wondered why the man was so still and turned his head so he could see the man's face. Those eyes were closed but suddenly opened, revealing eyes that seemed strong and fierce. Much to Mercutio's surprise the man leaned forward, one hand suddenly touching the side of Mercutio's face and holding his head in place. The man closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Mercutio's violently and hungrily.

Mercutio moaned against the man's mouth returning the kiss with an equal share of emotion and hunger. The position and movement made the man slid deeper into Mercutio. It was enough to drive Mercutio wild and when their mouths parted for a second the word 'please' came rushing out.

The man gave him a sudden look of bewilderment that was quickly replaced by that same knowing grin he had seen before. He was kissed again, differently, and when their mouths parted this time the man spoke.

“My name is Tybalt.”

“Tybalt...” Mercutio repeated without thinking; the name rolling off his tongue as a whisper, like he'd been let in on a big secret that only a few were privileged to know. Tybalt ran a hand down Mercutio's body as he raised himself up and took the same position as before between his legs. He grabbed Mercutio's hips and slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was still inside, then pushed back in. He repeated the movement again and again, a little faster each time, establishing a pace.

Mercutio moaned and gasped with each thrust and he got even louder when Tybalt wrapped his hand around Mercutio's already throbbing cock and started stroking him, matching each stroke with his thrusts. Mercutio allowed himself to drown in the pleasure of the act. His eyes closed, his mind disconnected from reality as the heat rose between them. Mercutio's whole body pressed against the mattress with each of Tybalt's thrusts. Soon he was almost at the edge and he could sense that Tybalt was too, as his thrusts grew more urgent and harder. With one last gaze into those green eyes Mercutio came with a loud moan and Tybalt followed him moments after, spilling his seed inside him.

They lay tangled and spent, facing each other, both trying to catch their breath. Tybalt shifted and pulled out of Mercutio's body yet still remained beside him as the last burst of their orgasms ran through them both. Mercutio couldn't help but be filled with a sense of satisfaction and feeling Tybalt's hot breath on his neck, he grew a little bold and called Tybalt's name. Mercutio didn't know what he had expected by calling that name, but as the green eyes darkened and the face hardened, he knew that wasn't it.

Tybalt left his side in a blur and rose from the bed, quickly picking up his garments and putting them on. Mercutio expertly threw away the little pain that threaten to rise on the center of his chest and sat up watching Tybalt as he dressed. Part of him reminded himself that this was nothing to get upset about, that the purpose of the evening had been achieved and there was no reason to see this man ever again; but another smaller part was trying to tell him that it would be more fun if it happened again.

“Are you going to the bar tomorrow?” Mercutio asked in a trained, monotone voice.

Tybalt didn't turn or made any movement that signified that he cared for Mercutio's question. He took his blades from the floor and sheathed them behind him. Mercutio's eyes widened slightly at the sight of them, scared that he hadn't seen them before, but quickly decided he didn't care. Tybalt walked to the door without a word, but as his hand touched the doorknob, he lingered for a second.

“Maybe,” came the deep reply, then the doorknob was turned and he was gone, leaving Mercutio alone in that dingy room with a small grin on his face.


End file.
